


The Chess Match

by Griselda_Gimpel



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Chess, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, speedrun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 01:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20462465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Gimpel/pseuds/Griselda_Gimpel
Summary: The story of how Roy Mustang and Maes Hughes came to know each other during their Academy days. Mustang challenges Hughes to a game of chess, but Hughes doesn't play fair.





	The Chess Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bearonthecouch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/gifts).

> In return for bearonthecouch beta-ing the third chapter of Final Judgement, I offered to write a Mustang/Hughes story. The prompt was "chess". This story is the result.

Roy Mustang, age 20, was fond of saying that he never lost a chess game. This was not true. He had lost a great deal when he was younger and still learning how to play. He still lost on occasion, such as a month prior, when he’d first made State Alchemist and been challenged by a more experienced player named Grumman. What was true was that Mustang didn’t lose often, and he hadn’t yet lost to any of his peers at the Academy.

Therefore, when Mustang heard rumors that one of his fellow cadets was bragging that he’d beat “that pretty boy Mustang”, Mustang wasted no time issuing a formal challenge. The time and date of the match were set. (These were “before lights out” and “his opponent’s room”.) Mustang’s opponent? One Maes Hughes.

The room was already crowded when Mustang arrived, and he had to squeeze through to find his seat at the table. There, he was able to get a look at his opponent. Hughes was the same age as Mustang, but there was a certain rugged air to him in contrast to Mustang’s delicate features. It was probably the facial hair. Mustang’s previous attempts to grow a virile beard had gotten him laughed at by Riza, and he had given up. Hughes, in contrast, had just the right amount of perma-stubble. It really wasn’t fair. Mustang was going to have to beat him just on principle.

“White or black?” Hughes asked. It was the first time Mustang had heard him speak.

“You choose,” Mustang said. “I issued the challenge.”

“I’ll take white then,” Hughes said. He spun the board on the table so that black side faced Mustang.

“Ready when you are,” Mustang said. His nose twitched. There was a smell in the room other than the collective odor of a dozen cadets. It took him a moment to place it, but as Hughes considered his first move, Mustang was able to put his finger on it. Cologne. Hughes was wearing cologne. Who wears cologne to a chess match?

After careful deliberation, Hughes grasped his Queen-side knight and moved it up two spaces and then to the right one.

“The Drunken Knight Opening?” Mustang asked contemptuously. “I’m going to relish spanking you in this game.”

“Ooo, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hughes teased. Mustang felt heat creeping into his face. He opted for the Bird’s Opening and moved his Queen-side bishop’s pawn forward two spaces.

“Your turn,” Mustang said tersely.

“Hang on,” Hughes said. “With all these people in here, I’m getting hot.” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his military issue coat. Mustang found himself staring at Hughes’ fingers, so he forced his eyes upward, so that they met Hughes’ own. “Okay,” Hughes said, “your move.”

“What?” Mustang asked blankly. He looked down at the board. Without Mustang having seen it, Hughes had quickly moved his Queen-side knight forward two spaces and then to the left one space, so it was next to the pawn that Mustang had moved forward.

“I took my turn,” Hughes said pleasantly.

“The Elephant Gambit?” Mustang mused. “No, it’s not even that.” Internally, however, he was shaken. Hughes had moved without even looking at the board. Was he really that confident?

“Whoops,” Hughes laughed, “I guess I messed up the Elephant Gambit.” Mustang felt a bit of tension leave him. It wasn’t just that he was now confident in his superior skill level. It was that it took a strong man to be able to laugh at his mistakes. When Mustang beat Hughes, he’d have to be careful not to gloat. Hughes would be a gracious loser, and that put the onus on Mustang to be a gracious winner.

“Let’s see…” Mustang mused.

“Hang on,” Hughes said. “Still too hot in here.” He took his jacket off entirely. “Oh, what’s the name of that move?”

“What?” Mustang asked. He looked down. Without thinking, he’d moved a pawn at random. He could have kicked himself! Chess was a game that required careful deliberation, and every move had to count.

“I guess we both made a mistake,” Hughes said, not meanly. He laughed again, and this time, he reached up with his arm to scratch the back of his head. Doing so pulled the material of his shirt taunt against the contours of his body.

Mustang continued the game in a daze. His initial strategy was blown. He tried for a Queen’s Gambit at one point, but Hughes – complaining once more how hot he was – unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. This caused his thick, black chest hair to peak through, and Mustang knocked over his bishop. To save himself from embarrassment, he moved it at random.

Hughes took the bishop the next turn. He took a number of Mustang’s pieces – more than Mustang was taking of his – but it took a few turns for Mustang to notice. This wasn’t just because Hughes had completely unbuttoned his shirt by that point. Hughes had such a warm, friendly, unassuming smile that Mustang was slow to realize he was losing – and when he did notice, Hughes was so easygoing about it that Mustang couldn’t hold it against him. Eventually, Mustang found himself in checkmate. He tipped over his king in surrender.

“Good game,” Mustang said, holding out his hand. Hughes shook it.

“You were a worthy opponent!” Hughes enthused with completely sincerity.

The rest of the cadets filed out, and until Mustang and Hughes were left alone. Hughes grinned as soon as the others were gone.

“Are you upset about losing?” Hughes asked. It wasn’t a taunt.

“Of course,” Mustang said with a laugh. “No one enjoys losing!”

“Shall I kiss you and make it better?” Hughes asked. That wasn’t a taunt, either, so Mustang replied honestly.

“Please do.”

Hughes closed the distance between Mustang and himself. At first, Mustang though that Hughes was going to peck him on the cheek, but Hughes shifted positions at the last minute. His stubble brushed against Mustang’s cheek, and then Hughes’ lips were on Mustang’s. It lasted only a moment and then it was over.

“I’ll play you again any time you’d like,” Hughes said.

“Will I always get a kiss if I lose?” Mustang asked.

“It’s a good consolation prize, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mustang agreed. “What do I get if I win?”

“Ooo! Beat me, and you’ll find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chess match or chest match, am I right?


End file.
